The Bell Tolls for Kurt Vonnegut
The Bell: Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Died: April 12, 2007
Age: 84
By Rob Holden
As any of you who have been longtime followers of ReadersRoom.com knows, THE BELL is that saddest of features here in our little place in cyberspace, written when a member of the literary community passes away. Every time I sit down to write one of these goddamned things, it means that someone who has impacted the world though their words will be doing so no more – at least, not with new words, and fresh insights. Every time I sit here behind my keyboard and find myself forced to write one of these goddamned things, it means that a part of my world is no longer with me. I take these personally, as if I am saying goodbye to friends, whether I ever met them or not. Certainly, it is harder when the person is someone that I got to know, as was the case a couple of years ago, with Evan Hunter – but sometimes even if the person I need to write about is someone that I never met, it can be very hard.
On Thursday, April 12th, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. passed away in New York as a result of brain injuries suffered in a fall several weeks ago. He was 84 years old.
I read my first Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. novel, Slaughterhouse Five, in High School – when I was maybe 15, maybe 16 years old. As I approach my 50th birthday, I still remember how I felt when I read that book. I certainly didn’t understand it – I am not certain that I have ever understood half of what Vonnegut wanted to say to me – but when I finished the book, I immediately started it again, because it didn’t matter if I understood it. The writing was so honest, the emotions so pure, the ideas so radical and yet at the same time so sensible that I had to keep reading. I mean, come on – Billy Pilgrim had become unstuck in time! The Tralfamidorians were creating a zoo and needed earthlings for their collection! The bombing of Dresden was not simply a fact of history circa 1945 – it happened each and every day, and would keep happening until memory was no more! This was heady stuff – amazing stuff – to a 15 year old boy.
It remains heady stuff – amazing stuff – to the fifty year old that boy has become.
There was no in between with Kurt Vonnegut – you loved his writing and had to read everything, or you didn’t make it through your first try and never gave him a second chance. Blending a razor sharp wit, dark humor and some of the most extraordinary plotlines in modern fiction, Vonnegut took aim and fired at everything from popular culture to religion, from art to human accountability. His fiction – encompassed in 14 novels and dozens of short stories – always made some point, and took some stand. Rather than simply writing to make a living as so many novelists do, Vonnegut wrote because he had something to say, and his stories were crafted in such a way as to ensure that you managed to get his point whether you wanted to or not. And no matter what plot he constructed, or what characters or, indeed, creatures he populated his fiction with, that point was always the same: Be Kind To One Another. Simple, powerful, needed constantly during his fifty year writing career, needed as much now as it has ever been.
After releasing Timequake in 1997, Vonnegut stopped publishing fiction, focusing his enormous talents on essay writing, and his painting – both of which he was remarkably accomplished at. While still remaining a fixture of the New York literary community, and regularly publishing essays both in magazines and in book form, Vonnegut’s fiction career was over, by his own choice. In a 1997 appearance on Charlie Rose’s PBS show in support of Timequake, Rose asked Vonnegut if he was working on a new novel, to which Vonnegut answered: “No. I’ve said everything I wanted to say.” I, for one, would not have minded in the least if he could have found a little more to say. But so it goes.
In the dedication to his novel Slapstick Vonnegut wrote: “To the memory of Arthur Stanley Jefferson and Norvell Hardy, two angels of my time.” And so it is with great sadness that we toll the bell for Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. – certainly one of the angels of my time.
He will be missed.
Died: April 12, 2007
Age: 84
By Rob Holden
As any of you who have been longtime followers of ReadersRoom.com knows, THE BELL is that saddest of features here in our little place in cyberspace, written when a member of the literary community passes away. Every time I sit down to write one of these goddamned things, it means that someone who has impacted the world though their words will be doing so no more – at least, not with new words, and fresh insights. Every time I sit here behind my keyboard and find myself forced to write one of these goddamned things, it means that a part of my world is no longer with me. I take these personally, as if I am saying goodbye to friends, whether I ever met them or not. Certainly, it is harder when the person is someone that I got to know, as was the case a couple of years ago, with Evan Hunter – but sometimes even if the person I need to write about is someone that I never met, it can be very hard.
On Thursday, April 12th, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. passed away in New York as a result of brain injuries suffered in a fall several weeks ago. He was 84 years old.
I read my first Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. novel, Slaughterhouse Five, in High School – when I was maybe 15, maybe 16 years old. As I approach my 50th birthday, I still remember how I felt when I read that book. I certainly didn’t understand it – I am not certain that I have ever understood half of what Vonnegut wanted to say to me – but when I finished the book, I immediately started it again, because it didn’t matter if I understood it. The writing was so honest, the emotions so pure, the ideas so radical and yet at the same time so sensible that I had to keep reading. I mean, come on – Billy Pilgrim had become unstuck in time! The Tralfamidorians were creating a zoo and needed earthlings for their collection! The bombing of Dresden was not simply a fact of history circa 1945 – it happened each and every day, and would keep happening until memory was no more! This was heady stuff – amazing stuff – to a 15 year old boy.
It remains heady stuff – amazing stuff – to the fifty year old that boy has become.
There was no in between with Kurt Vonnegut – you loved his writing and had to read everything, or you didn’t make it through your first try and never gave him a second chance. Blending a razor sharp wit, dark humor and some of the most extraordinary plotlines in modern fiction, Vonnegut took aim and fired at everything from popular culture to religion, from art to human accountability. His fiction – encompassed in 14 novels and dozens of short stories – always made some point, and took some stand. Rather than simply writing to make a living as so many novelists do, Vonnegut wrote because he had something to say, and his stories were crafted in such a way as to ensure that you managed to get his point whether you wanted to or not. And no matter what plot he constructed, or what characters or, indeed, creatures he populated his fiction with, that point was always the same: Be Kind To One Another. Simple, powerful, needed constantly during his fifty year writing career, needed as much now as it has ever been.
After releasing Timequake in 1997, Vonnegut stopped publishing fiction, focusing his enormous talents on essay writing, and his painting – both of which he was remarkably accomplished at. While still remaining a fixture of the New York literary community, and regularly publishing essays both in magazines and in book form, Vonnegut’s fiction career was over, by his own choice. In a 1997 appearance on Charlie Rose’s PBS show in support of Timequake, Rose asked Vonnegut if he was working on a new novel, to which Vonnegut answered: “No. I’ve said everything I wanted to say.” I, for one, would not have minded in the least if he could have found a little more to say. But so it goes.
In the dedication to his novel Slapstick Vonnegut wrote: “To the memory of Arthur Stanley Jefferson and Norvell Hardy, two angels of my time.” And so it is with great sadness that we toll the bell for Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. – certainly one of the angels of my time.
He will be missed.